Note: This is a seattlepi.com reader blog. It is not written or edited by the P-I. The authors are solely responsible for content. E-mail us at newmedia@seattlepi.com if you consider a post inappropriate..

Hater by David Moody

First published in 2006 by author David Moody, Hater has been republished this year by Thomas Dunne Books in the United States and Orion Books in the United Kingdom. Hater is the initial volume of a three-book series, and will be followed by Dog Blood in 2010.

Moody’s previous publishing effort, the post-apocalyptic Autumn was originally offered for free online. More than half a million downloads of the novel led to a movie adaptation and republication of the five-book series by Thomas Dunne Books.

Moody has become a sensation while bypassing the traditional publishing structure. Without an agent Moody managed to sell Hater film rights to producers Mark Johnson (The Chronicles of Narnia) and Guillermo del Toro (Hellboy, Pan’s Labyrinth). The film is scheduled for release in 2010 directed by Juan Antonio Bayona (The Orphanage).

Hater opens with a random act of violence between two apparent strangers on a city street. The act is observed by dozens of people on their way to work. Witnesses are torn. Should they assist the hapless victim? Should they try to stop the attacker? Or should they try and make it to the office on time?

Sometimes having such a dull and monotonous job is an advantage. This stuff is way beneath me and I don’t really have to think about what I’m doing.

With these lines, protagonist Danny McCoyne sums up a large percentage of modern jobs. We’ve all been there: moving, talking, making it through the day, yet mentally zoned out. The only incentive for returning every morning is a paycheck, and there are times when it hardly seems worth that, to keep one’s soul in a cubicle.

Danny’s state of mind–hovering slightly above and to one side of the physical world–could be relaxing, a bit like meditation. Unfortunately, Danny’s work environment is not peaceful. His supervisor is belligerent and spiteful. His co-workers divide equally into the lame and the bitter. Danny lingers in his half-there condition–in part, to avoid getting angry enough to erupt at his fellow workers.

When he isn’t struggling to contain his temper, Danny is bored by the tedious routine of his job processing fines for parking violations. And he is a little afraid of the enraged drivers who come barreling into the office hoping to scream their way clear of paying the standard fee, to retrieve their impounded vehicles.

At home Danny copes with three small children who compete for his attention and never seem to shut up. His beloved yet increasingly alienated and harried wife finds fault with every move he makes. They seldom make love, and they are always tired. Just as disheartening in a different way, their combined salaries don’t go far enough to afford luxuries that might relieve the close quarters and constant sacrifices that currently define their personal lives. They strive to be patient, loving parents, while longing for just one day of freedom, one whole night of sleep.

Sound familiar? Of course it does. Moody has accurately and vividly described the way a large part of the population in Great Britain and the U.S. manage to get by, week after week, year after year. In every area of the lives we have created, our sanity and our self-importance are chipped away bit by bit.

Surviving urban competition is a continual struggle, a deft balancing act. No wonder, then, that some of us go stark, raving mad. We are playing by the rules in a society that demands we behave properly at all times, and then sporadically and extravagantly rewards certain individuals who behave badly, sometimes going so far as to call them “mavericks” and heroes.

We strenuously ignore one provocation after another, all day long, without any sanctified form of release other than music concerts and sporting events, which have come to represent far too much to their devotees. This fact is highlighted in the book when an act of violence at a concert is initially misinterpreted and applauded as part of the show.

The first time Danny witnesses someone losing control and directing aggression at another person, he watches with the same mixture of curiosity and disbelief we’ve all experienced at the spark of a crisis. In our orderly and unsatisfying world, in the midst of all the mundane activity we have contrived, denial is our most common response to the extraordinary.

Danny goes from denial to caution, and then to a gradually dawning recognition that the violence he observes in various public places may not be a series of isolated incidents, but possibly a rising wave of brutality with a single source. Something has gone wrong, and no one will explain how it has happened, or how to remedy it. Most frightening, no one can predict which person will be next, in the role of aggressor or victim.

As our protagonist begins to understand how widespread the problem is, Moody draws a meticulously detailed progression to reveal Danny’s shifting consciousness. We travel along with the character, smoothly and plausibly, from denial and shock to protectiveness toward loved ones, and beyond.

The final phases of the story are entirely believable in terms of human nature, and I won’t spoil them. Moody has achieved something rare and quite moving with this book, which is to portray the outer boundary of what people are capable of doing without making the story seem like pure fantasy.

Danny’s actions make sense. Furthermore, few of us attain adulthood without witnessing at least one act of inexplicable violence. In addition, we read about such acts in the news all the time:

“Arkansas man sentenced for killing slow hairdresser.”

“Canada bus passenger beheads seat mate.”

“Arizona boy charged with killing father ‘loved his dad.'”

“Man stabbed to death outside a fast-food restaurant in Oxford Street.”

Moody has cleverly taken our constant awareness of such events occurring at the fringes of our lives, and fleshed out the individual scenarios for them. Interspersed with scenes of Danny gritting his teeth through another encounter at work or another argument at home, the author presents situations in which people go ballistic with one another. These moments are scarily grounded in natural, nuanced behavior and are set in a context we can recognize all too clearly.

Moody’s novel depicts people shifting from abject boredom and self-repression to pure rampage. When it occurs, this tumult of energy is both frightening and familiar–exhilarating in an instinctive, animal sense. Worse, the rush that occurs when Moody’s characters resort to base brutality is every bit as human and real as a family cringing in horror at the fragile periphery of it all.

The final scenes of Hater leave open the possibility of either a thematic or chronological sequel. This may be one reason some of the basic questions raised by the protagonist are not answered satisfactorily. A pre-existing state is hinted at, but not played out entirely. However subsequent installments might develop, the theme of this book will be tough to follow: Maybe we ought to find better, healthier, and more satisfying ways of managing our innate aggression than putting on trendy clothes and making nice at the office every day.

Note: This is a seattlepi.com reader blog. It is not written or edited by the P-I. The authors are solely responsible for content. E-mail us at newmedia@seattlepi.com if you consider a post inappropriate..